Do You See Her Face? (A Jess Mariano Fanfiction)

She's Very Clockwork Orange

Disclaimer: All Gilmore Girls content belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino.

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Tying her hair into a messy updo, looking like a disheveled ballerina, Ella nudged the door open with her elbow and made her way into Luke's. She shed her jean jacket and her bag, hanging them on the hook near the door. Wrapping her extra flannel snug around the hips of her floral dress, she surmised the state of the diner. The early birds hadn't yet arrived for dinner but the lunch rush had long since dissipated, so she had some time to prepare.

"Hey Luke!" she called towards the stairs, beginning her routine without having to be asked. Ella knew he would be on his lunch break, up in the apartment.

Having worked at the diner for around two years, she managed to rack up the tips and keep the place cleaner than Luke would ever think to. She washed her hands, soaping vigorously, and began wiping down the counters and tables, save for the one which was occupied. Humming a song under her breath, she started a fresh pot of coffee in case anyone came in for a post-work, pre-dinner pick-me-up. Pieces had already begun to fall out of her bun, blonde waves in her hazel eyes. She blew them out of her field of view. For what felt like the thousandth time, she checked the salt shakers. One was only three-fourths full, and she took a moment to debate whether she needed to refill it, holding it at eye-level.

"'Edge of Seventeen,'" a voice announced from behind her, uncomfortably close to her ear.

Letting out a yelp of surprise, Ella dropped the shaker and whipped around with her hand flying to the chain around her neck, an old method of calming herself down. The sound of the glass shaker shattering rang out in the near-empty restaurant. The first thing she noticed was his smile: small and smug and crooked. He uttered a laugh under his breath.

"Stevie Nicks fan, huh? And a little clumsy, it would seem," he continued, raising an eyebrow.

"Who the hell are you? Get out from behind the counter!" she ordered, her tone bitter and voice raised. She waved his hands at him angrily, attempting to push him around the corner. Though she tried, he wouldn't budge, only stood there with that shit-eating smirk and his arms crossed over his chest.

Huffing out in frustration, she mirrored his stance. Neither of them moved for a moment, an Old West style standoff. Then, she bellowed up the stairs: "Luke! We're getting robbed very slowly!"

The boy across from her let out another chuckle.

"Shut up," she hissed at him.

Luke came rushing down the stairs, dressed in the outfit he seemed to wear everyday. His boots thudded heavily on the old wooden floor, and all the urgency left his frame once he saw the situation before him.

"Oh...Ella, sorry, I forgot to tell you," he began dejectedly, sighing and bowing his head. "You had your volunteering thing the past couple weeks so I didn't mention-"

"What? That we're letting people like this shi-"

"This is my nephew, Jess," Luke cut her off, watching as her face reddened in both anger and embarrassment. Some kid had tried to steal a muffin last winter and he'd had no idea such a young woman could have that amount of colorful words stored in her memory. It was best to stop the diatribe before it started.

Her face froze momentarily, and her shoulders untensed just a touch. "Ah. This is the nephew."

The boy stuck out his hand to her. "Jess Mariano."

She snorted slightly and turned back to the counter, crouching down to grab a rag and the trash can from the cupboard below. Popping back up and beginning to clean the salt, she finally introduced herself in the flattest tone she could muster, without shaking his hand. "Eleanor Stevens."

"Charmed," Jess replied dryly.

"Ditto," she shot back.

Luke groaned. "Look, you don't have to be best friends, but I need you to be civil by dinner. I'll be prepping."

Before Ella could question him, Luke disappeared into the back kitchen with an eye roll to rival her own. Babette and Maury had watched the whole scene, then finishing up and leaving some cash on the table.

"Bye, Ella! See you tomorrow, sugar!" Babette called as they left, the old woman sporting a shiny smile despite the tense air.

"Thanks guys! Have a good night!" She kept sweeping the salt into the can, but a bright expression lit up her face as she spoke to the familiar couple.

Jess walked a couple steps closer to her and leaned against the counter, hovering as she cleaned the mess. She didn't acknowledge him.

"Ella, huh?" he asked casually.

"I've been known to respond to it," she said.

Sighing through his nose, Jess wrinkled his brow. "You can really turn that good nature on and off like a switch, can't you?"

"A blessing and a curse." Shaking the salty rag out and into the trash, she moved on to clearing away the shards of glass.

"Don't cut yourself," he warned mockingly.

"Shove it. You keep bothering me and I'll stab you with a butterknife." Still not looking up at him, she finished with the salt shaker mess and grabbed the refill salt from beneath the counter. As she meandered through the tables, she checked the other shakers, assessing them as she went.

"Why a butterknife?"

"It's duller, so it would take longer. Maximum suffering," she told him in a clipped tone.

"Very Clockwork Orange," he surmised, trailing her like a lost puppy.

"Yes, I'm a real horrorshow," she sighed, unscrewing a shaker cap.

His eyebrows shot up, impressed. Watching her move, he noticed the absolutely destroyed state of her black converse and how her thick blonde hair threatened to spill from its bun at any moment. It was a hasty kind of beauty, but he didn't mind it. "You've read it?"

"And I've seen it. Honestly, I prefer Kubrick," she admitted, the words slipping half-hearted from her lips as she worked. Glancing up at the clock, she noticed it was only 3:15. Many more hours with this new jackass.

He gasped dramatically. "For shame, choosing a movie over a book!"

Ella groaned, throwing her head back as she felt him judging her over her shoulder. "Ugh, would you quit evaluating my taste and get some work done, Mariano?"

"As you wish," he said, shrugging as he went to clear Babette and Maury's table.

"Okay, the Princess Bride movie is definitely better than the book!"

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Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought! Feedback is greatly appreciated!